Always breathing. Always learning. Always searching. Always dreaming.
It washes over me again before the sun opens her eyes.
The downpour is torrential
and no amount of planning could’ve prepared me.
Whether it rains softly
or in buckets,
these showers are unwelcome.
I try to float
To wait it out
To sink into my own rhythm
This bath is neither hot nor cold
No warmth or chill
Just here… and heavy
Tori Burris Inkley
4/6/26
Always breathing. Always learning. Always searching. Always dreaming.
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